The Birthday Wish
by MissScorp
Summary: Dick Grayson decides to make a birthday wish finally come true. One-shot. Dick Grayson is Batman. K for a bit of romantic fluff.


**A/N:** Okay, I'm gonna admit this right up front… this is a birthday fic to _me (_my birthday is 9/9 for those in different time zones_)_. So yes, this is supposed to be a bit sappy, kinda fluffy and no, it's not the most well-written... but it's my birthday fic and I'm happy with it :)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the concept of the story and general theme…

* * *

It had been a highly frustrating night. She'd stopped no crimes, saved no innocents, and rousted none of the super criminals who were currently on the loose from their hidey holes. She had a hollowness in her chest from where the birthday wish she'd made that morning to do something productive to mark the event had gone unfulfilled. There was always _something_ going on in Gotham City, and typically more than one criminal requiring some type of specialized attention. But it was like all the criminals had taken a vote and decided to make her birthday as boring an affair as they could.

With restlessness still dogging her, she returned to the Penthouse Apartment she shared with Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne, showered in the locker room that was in the bunker below the iconic steel structure known as Wayne Towers, pulled on her sports tank and cotton workout pants, and went upstairs to her bedroom. She had the Penthouse all to herself since Alfred was away visiting family that week, and Dick and Damian were still out on patrol. She planned to enjoy this rare quiet time by snuggling up in bed and watching one of her favorite movies.

She spotted the rose the moment she walked in the room. It was lying horizontally on her pillow, its petals nearly opalescent but for the trim of baby pink that kissed the bloom's fragile lips. On her nightstand, a pretty frosted cupcake glittered under a lighted birthday candle. Also on the table were a small wrapped box and two flutes frothy with champagne.

"Happy Birthday," a husky voice said from behind her.

Raya turned to look at the man slouched in the armchair by the small fireplace. The sweetness of his gesture definitely made up for it having caught her off guard. And considering that Dick had gone to great lengths in order to surprise her (knowing as he did about how much she hated surprises), had her smile blossoming—absolute and total delight.

"How did you manage to do this?" she lifted a brow as she picked up a flute. "I thought you were out on patrol with Damian?"

"I got Tim to take over my patrol for me."

"Oh?" she cocked her head; smirked. "And how exactly did you get Tim and Damian to agree to play nicely with each other?"

Unfolding his body from the chair, Dick Grayson rose and strolled over to her. There was that look in his eyes, she saw. The one that always had her stomach curling into slippery little knots. And her pulse galloping like a herd of wild Mustangs.

"I pulled rank."

Her lips twitched. "Now that wasn't a very nice thing to do, Dick."

He lowered his head, brushed his lips across hers. Just a bare meeting of flesh. But it was enough to make her sigh, to melt against him.

"I wanted to spend your birthday with you." His mouth smiled easily, sensually. "_Alone_."

"Oh well, in that case…" she said. "What should I do first?"

"Make a wish," Dick teased, "and blow out the candle before it melts onto your cupcake."

It had been a long time since she'd had a reason to make something as simple as a wish. The last six months had been anything but idyllic. Losing Bruce during the _Final Crisis_ was not something any of them anticipated happening. Grieving was an expected, obligatory and _human_ reaction to the blow they'd been dealt. Slowly, they'd recovered. And slowly, they'd began building a life out of the ashes that was their former one.

_As Bruce wanted us to do_.

But there was one thing that she did want, she realized. Something that was so sweet and sappy and ridiculously feminine that it'd never come true. Not in a million years, at least. But she wished for it anyway. She closed her eyes, silently made her wish, and then blew her breath over the candle.

"So, whatcha wish for?" he asked as he plucked the candle and dropped it into a waiting cup of water.

"Now Richard Grayson," she spoke the reprimand lightly. There was no way in hell that she was going to tell him about what she'd wished for. "You know the rules about birthday wishes." She smiled, picking up the small box. "Can't tell anyone what ya wished for or else the wish won't come true."

"Oh, fine," he huffed as he folded his arms across his chest. "Be that way."

Raya grinned as she opened the small box. Inside were earrings, a dangle of silver robins against a backdrop of tiny orbs of aquamarine.

"Oh, Dick," she breathed. "They're beautiful." She held them up to the light before she kissed him, one, quick smacking kiss. "Thank you so much…"

Watching as she made quick work of slipping the earrings on, Dick dug into his pocket, let out a tiny sigh of relief when his fingers closed over the small velvet box that contained an item to match the earrings that he'd just given her. Odd, he'd thought he'd be nervous. At least, just a little bit. But he was perfectly calm, felt completely confident and in absolute control. He took the empty box from her and tossed it onto the bed. Then he took her hands in his and smiled down into her upturned face.

"I love you, Raya."

"I lo-"

That was as far as she got before his lips silenced her.

"I've thought about a million ways in which I should do this. Imagined a thousand different scenarios and places in which I should do this. Because I wanted things to be perfect when I asked you this question."

There was a little flutter in her stomach that was anticipation. But she didn't dare to hope. She didn't want to be wrong. But that small part of her, that teensy, tiny little feminine part of her that she tried to ignore most days, whispered that her birthday wish was about to become a reality.

"I've thought of all the words I'd say to you, that I would use to ask you, and how exactly I would say each and every word to you. But thirteen years is a long time in which to love somebody. And all the words I could think to say, I've said over the course of those thirteen years. All I can think to say right now, the only thing I can think to say right now is that I love you...will you marry me?"

Joy swamped her, threatened to drown her. Tears fell, unheeded and unchecked, pooling at the corners of her trembling lips.

"And am I going to get a ring with this proposal?" she asked with a tiny sniffle.

"I've had your ring in my pocket for ten years Raya," he said as he took the ring from the box. "I've just been waiting for the moment in which to give it to you. Now," he said as he dropped down to one knee. "Will you _finally_ marry me?"

The ring was as simple and elegant as she remembered it. He'd chosen aquamarine- his birthstone- a beautiful blue-green stone that was set in a simple gold band. Surrounding the beautiful heart-shaped stone were two golden robins with eyes that were a lighter shade of turquoise. He'd presented this ring to her on her sixteenth birthday, asked her to be his wife and partner. And she'd refused because they were much too young to be considering taking such a serious step.

But ten years had grown them up, strengthened their love and commitment to each other. Ten years later had also turned them into the parents of a fatherless boy. Which was why the answer that her twenty-six year old self gave was a much different one from the one her sixteen year old self had given.

"Yes."

Dick started; gaped. "Yes... you _actually_ said yes this time?"

When she only nodded, and gave him a brilliant smile, Dick took the ring from the box and slid it on her ring finger. Then he cupped the back of her neck, drawing her to him. The kiss spun out, full of love and hope and joy. And as his arms came around her, holding her tight, Raya sent up a prayer to whatever deity had decided to make her birthday wish come true.


End file.
